I Caught Fire
by TheMentalCase
Summary: Shawn Spencer is missing. The clock is ticking. Carlton Lassiter has only one shot at finding the crook, his biggest case. He wants nothing more than to solve it. When will he realize what he really wants is right under his nose? Shassie.
1. Missing

**This is not my first piece of literature I've written, but it IS the first fanfic I've posted. It is a Shassie, as you can see... (Why else would you be here?) **

**I'm (obviously) planning to write more chapters. How quick they'll be written will depend on two things, 1) not getting writer's block, and 2) not getting any (positive) reviews. Reviews are like a writer's soup. FEED ME PEOPLE.**

**It contains slashy Shassie goodness and some suspense. (I can hear you now..."Don't kill Shawn oh god, no!") Don't worry. I don't kill my favorite characters like some people do. I torture them if they're cute, sure, but killing? That's too depressing for my liking. (Ahaha...Right.)**

**I will be adding "suggested listening" to any and all chapters/sections of chapters. Oh, and I haven't proof read it or put it in an advanced program yet. You have been warned. Forgive me. It will be scanned and perfected soon.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Psych, you would know. So I do not...Just to make that clear.**

**Warnings: ...Nothing really in this chapter, unless you have an uncanny fear of kidnappers, in which case you should run while you have the chance.**

**So, without further adue, let us start, and for goodness sake, LET ME KNOW what you think of it.**

**Oh...and let me make this clear. I'm not opposed to constructive criticism, to the contrary, I'm actually quite appreciative of it, HOWEVER...if you review with something like, "was stupid dont like it wut da hell is wrong wit u"...I will not only disregard it but delete it and move it to my personal collection of "The Language of Idiots" document.**

**Okay. NOW we can start. **

- - - - - - - - -

Detective Carlton Lassiter walked through the front doors of the Santa Barbra Police Department. Another day at work. He grabbed a newspaper from a stand not too far from the doors. Another boring day. He walked to his desk, dropped his breif case, and threw his coat over his chair. Another stressful day. Officer McNabb handed him his coffee, smiling and saying something along the lines of "Good morning sir". He noticed the officer still hadn't left and blunty looked up at him. "What do you want, a good morning speech? Get back to work."

Another day having to deal with an annoying psychic. However, he noticed that he hadn't yet seen the younger obnoxious Spencer in the department. Hah. It must be his lucky day.

He skimmed through the newspaper while sipping at his coffee slightly, it was still too hot for his liking. Hmm. Nothing too eventful. There were no murders...No drug smuggling articles...Just a few minor robberies. There weren't even any kidnappings--- Oh wait, what was this? Page 2. There had been a kidnapping. He sat in his chair, crossing his legs, ready to start his morning by reading about the case that would probably end upon his desk later.

But, before he could read any further, his female partner, Juliet, walked quickly to his desk and stopped. "Lassiter." She sounded urgent. So much for starting his morning quietly. Laying his coffee and paper down, he sighs and looked up at the junior detective. "What is it Ohara?"

...And suddenly he regretted looking up. Juliet was biting her lip worriedly, she looked like she was stressed beyond belief. Quite honestly, he hadn't seen her like this since they had first partnered up. "Ohara?" He sat more upright, studying her features and trying to decipher what she was troubled over. Although, no detective, no matter how good, could read a person's mind. The only person capable of doing that was...well...a psychic. Too bad they don't exist. Or at least so Lassiter refuses to believe so.

"It's...It's Shawn..." She said taking a deep breath and trying to calm herself, "He's missing." Seriously? Lassiter had seen him just yesterday, he couldn't be 'missing'. Spencer was Spencer, and it wasn't out of the ordinary for him to be in the most random place at the most random time, Ohara should know that...which made him wonder..."...And you know this how? He's probably just in some odd place doing some odd thing. Besides, a person can't be labelled missing until they're gone for at least fourty-eight hours." He stated as a matter-of-fact-ly. "No...He's...He's missing." She repeated.

The chief suddenly turned the corner to his desk. "Detective Lassiter, Ohara. Have you started the investigation?" She asked in her usual authoritive voice. Yet...it was different. It wasn't her usual authoritive voice. It had a hint of worry concealed in it. "What investigation? Don't tell me this is about Spencer missing. You too?" He asked, slightly annoyed. He didn't need this, not now. His ex wife had called him last night for the first time in months, five to be exact, and he didn't need any uneccessary stress added to his day.

"Yes. It is. He was last seen last night on the beach by his father's house..." the chief started. Lassiter was about to cut in, planning to protest, getting more annoyed by the second with this rubbish, but stopped as Karen continued. "...being forced at gun point into a black van. A few people on the beach witnessed it, but no one noticed a license plate. They've all agreed to come in for questioning if need be. Also, three days ago, a woman was reported to be seen in an almost identicle situation. She was forced by gun point into a black van by the store where the old bell tower used to be. I need you to track down this van as soon as possible and arrest anyone you find in it."

Oh. Well that's different. Damn. Hmm. Lassiter just smiled at everyone. At Juliet, at Karen his chief. He didn't quite know what to do...Or say...Or think for that mater. _'Okay, Gotta get myself together. Come on Carlton. Snap to it. Okay. This is a case. What do we have...'_

The chief sighed and walked back towards her office. Juliet just sort of stared at her partner with a confused frown. What on earth was going through Lassiter's head...maybe he had finally snapped.

_'...Spencer was seen last night being forced into a van with a gun pointed at him. Van has no license plate. Woman was forced into supposedly the same van three days ago...So...Spencer...Gun...Van...Gone...Missing...'_ "Wait! Chief. Do we have any leads on the other missing person?" he called breaking out of the speeding cycle of thoughts his mind had trapped him in.

The chief, who was about to close her office door stopped at hearing that. She took a long, silent pause. "We found her this morning." she said before closing her door and shutting all the blinds.

"Oh...well that's no so bad." he said aloud. Ohara bit her lip and shook her head slowly, "No, Carlton." ...Silence. She was dead. He could see it from the look on the blonde's face. "...How." He stated more than asked. "..." "Ohara, answer me." "...Her body was found...in a warehouse by the docks...she was tortured until her body just...gave up...She was tortured to death, Lassiter." the young woman said grimly, "And if we don't solve this case quick enough...We'll find...Shawn...the...the same way..."

Juliet Ohara had a sharp mind. She was intelligent, observant, and an excellent detective. She could look at gruesomely murdered victim bodies and not flinch, but this was different. He was her friend. Shawn was her friend. And if anything ever happened to him, she would be just as devastated as someone who had known and loved him all his life. Picturing his shattered body lying in a warehouse truly terrified her. His light hearted laughter, his goofy smile, his naiive childish composure... Everything about him brought light to the SBPD, and she knew that if he was gone, the entire police department would be affected. She would loose one of the only things that made this sort of job livable. And regardless of whether her partner would admit it, he would miss the obnoxious psychic too.

- - - - - - - - -

**Wow...it was SO much shorter than I had intended...That...kind of sucks. Well, anyway, I promise the next chapter will be longer. Much longer. Like at minimum twice this size. Failing to meet the reader's expectations is one thing but failing to meet your own is just so sad...**

**Anyway. I'll be writing a second chapter regardless of reviews because I'm simply just not pleased with how quickly this chapter ended. I'm depressed. I think I'll have warm milk and go to bed. And cry.**

**Bai Bai my fellow pineapple hearted friends.**


	2. Imagination

**I'd like to start off by again apologizing for the utter shortness of the first chapter. I'm listening to a sappy french song (Gai Desespoir) done by Ali Project (a Japanese band. Please don't get confused.) and feeling quite self loathing. But oh well, this is the second chapter. I've mader an internal oath to myself to make it longer and just all together better.**

**Disclaimer:**** I am a rabid yaoi fangirl with a twisted personality. If I owned Psych, you would know by now. And I would not be here, writing a DISCLAIMER. I would be off spending time with my two favorite actors in the world. (Shawn and Lassiter...if you need to read these bracketed notes you should know that you need to work on your anticipatory skills.) OH YEAH. I own the mystery guy at the very end of the chapter. He's mine. All mine. If you take him I will sue your ass silly.**

**Warnings:**** Some Shawn bashing. Literal, not verbal...well maybe some verbal, but not from me. And do not forget this is a SHASSIE fic. Lassiter x Shawn. Slash. Yaoi. Shounen ai. No like-y no read-y. Homophobes ye be warned.**

**The suggested listening...is currently blocked from my "receptors" (Hah. Lindsay Lichen sucks at the whole psychic act. (...Refer to the 2nd episode on the first disc of Psych season 2.))**

**NOTE: This chapter hasn't been proof read yet either. Literature critics ye be warned... But it will be. Soon. The frst chapter should be by today or tomorrow. I've just recently started using a new key board...I don't know about you but changing to a new key board drives me NUTS. It will be a short while before I get accustomed to it, and thus, I am more prone to make spelling mistakes. I prefer to call them typos. The term "spelling mistake" somehow demeans my language skills. I do not like it.**

**End of note.**

**You may now begin reading.**

- - - - - - - - -

**9:56 AM**

Sounds. Keys jingling. Two sets of hurried foot steps. A vehicle door opening.

Sights. A frowning head detective. A worried blonde trying to keep up. A red car.

"It was only this morning so the perp can't be outside the city and if he is, he can't be far." the detective said while hastily getting into his car. Whether the grumpy detective wanted to admit it to himself or not, this case, for some reason, meant much more to him. He had to solve this one, and as quick as possible. Something was pushing him, urging him, telling him that if he screwed up it would scar him for life. Fear maybe? Surely he wasn't _that_ afraid of something happening to Shawn...I mean...it was only Sencer right...he could handle himself somehow...right?

"Lassiter, we don't even have any leads! Where are we even going?!" Juliet protested loudly. She wanted to find Shawn just as much as Lassiter if not more. Maybe...But panicking and rushing off to nowhere without any clues at all wasn't going to help Shawn. They needed to work as a team. They needed to harness all their mental powers together and break this case before it was too late.

"You're going to talk to Henry Spencer, I'm going to talk to Guster." he replied snappily. Juliet Ohara stopped and just stared. _'Since when do we split up? Why is Lassiter acting so worried? I've never seen him like this...'_ she thought. "Wait...Why do I have to go talk to ? Wouldn't it be better if I went to Gus and you went to Henry? And how will I get there? Are you dropping me off? How do I get back--" "Ohara this is NOT the time to argue with me, do as you're told, now!" her partner snapped, "Get McNabb to drive you to Spencer's house, Henry is probably there, tell McNabb to wait for you outside."

And without another word, just the starting of an engine, Detective Lassiter was gone... _'I'm starting to wonder if he wants to find Shawn to save him or to lecture him on getting kidnapped...'_

- - - - - - - - -

**10:31 AM**

**Knock Knock.** Who's there? Oh...Lassiter. Maybe they found Shawn!

Gus runs to the door of the Psych office and opens the door, hoping, praying that they have good news. He opens the door, but Lassiter isn't smiling. Not that he much does...but..."Did you find him? Do you have any news? Is he okay?" "...We haven't found him yet, Guster. I came to ask you some questions."

Where's Juliet? She's not with him?

"...Oh...come in..." Gus steps away from the door and returns to his seat, rubbing his temples. He's not at work. How can he go to work while his best friend is missing, maybe even.....

Lassiter sits down with his paper and pen ready, looking dead serious. It's almost scary..."I need to know any and all enemies Sha--...Spencer might have had. Anyone with a grudge against him." the Detective stated sternly. He was obviously not in a good mood. "That could be any number of people...He's a psychic. Some people think he's a devil worshipper. There are lots of people who are skeptic, even haters. Although...there was a man..." "What man..." Lassiter questioned, cobalt eyes fixed and mind set on solving a case he had no leads on.

"Three days ago...We were in a starbucks...Shawn was...'reading' the mind of the girl at the counter. This man in line started laughing his head off. Then he got right serious...came right up to us and told Shawn that he knew the truth."

"...The truth...?"

"He said...that he knew Shawn wasn't a psychic, and that he was treading on dangerous grounds pretending to be." Gus stated worriedly. "...And neither of you thought it wise to report this?" Lassiter said, as if it was obvious to do so. "...He didn't threaten anyone's life or pull out a weapon...he was just a skeptic guy waiting in line for coffee...what's so criminal about that?" Gus asked nervously. Maybe they should have?

"..."

_'Potentially everything...'_ Lassiter thought. Whipping out his cell phone, he dialed the chief, waiting for her to pick up.

"Santa Barbra Police Departm--"

"Chief."

"Lassiter? Yes?"

"The woman that was found this morning, has she been ID'd?"

"Yes, why?"

"Do you know if she was psychic?"

"...Yes. She was. It was Lindsay Lichen...the psychic working for the National Treasury in Washington. You met her before."

"Damn."

"..."

Dial tone.

Quickly and sloppily jotting some notes down on his pad, the detective turned his attention back to Gus. "I need a full description. Detailed appearance, personality traits, a description of his voice, who he was with, if anyone...Do you know what he was driving?" he finished, impressively all on one breath.

Gus stared for a moment until his brain caught up on everything Lassite rhad said. "Yeah...A black four by four dodge ram."

- - - - - - - - -

**10:54 AM**

Juliet Ohara was nervous. She was stressed. For more reasons than one. First of all, a good friend of hers was missing, which was never a good thing. Secondly, she was standing at the door of said friend's father's house. If someone, anyone else had been with her, she would have been more comfortable, but there was no one. She was alone with this one. Henry Spencer was a good person, she knew that, but..._'I'll be damned if he isn't the hardest man for a woman to confront on her own about something like this...'_

**Knock Knock. ... Knock Knock.**

_'He isn't home?'_ she asked herself mentally. Looking around, she noticed his truck was still in the driveway. Twisting the door knob slowly, she also discovered that the house was not locked. _'He has to be here...'_

Cautiously, she let herself inside the home, looking around and listening carefully for any signs of a human presence. Once inside, she closed the door behind her.

"?" she called half quietly, something about this whole situation unnerved her. Something was off. She coudn't tell what, but it was something. " it's detective Ohara, are you home?"

Sounds. Glass breaking. A snicker.

The junior detecive whipped out her gun quickly, now more unnnerved than ever. Maybe the killer--...kidnapper...had come for Shawn's dad as well?

She slowly advanced further into the house, gun pointed, ready to fire. ", are you home? Answer me!" she called, this time in a more firm tone.

Rounding the corner of the wall and looking at the living room, she found Henry Spencer, sitting in his arm chair. He was alone. There was no cold blooded killing kidnapper with him. He appeared to be uninjured. Nothing was out of the norm--...except for the fact that there was an empty 12 pack of beer bottles and one or two smashed on the floor. And the bottles were not the only thing smashed. Henry Spencer was as well.

"Sir..."

Not in all her encounters with the senior Spencer, did she think he was the type to drink excessively. While stern and rather overbearing and what some would call a bit of a "control freak"...he simply didn't seem to be the kind of man to drink away his problems. All his life the former cop had faced his problems head on. Maybe this was the final thread to snap...Had Henry Spencer had finally broken down?

"Sir..."

She didn't know what to say. What could she say? She herself was worried sick about her psychic friend. She could only imagine how the man's father felt.

"Sir, look. It's going to be okay. We're going to find Shawn. The department is doing everything it can. Even detective Lassiter is working his hardest on this case." she spoke softly, trying to offer what comfort she could. Henry just laughed weakly, not bothering to look at the woman. Instead he took another swig of beer. "It's my fault." he stated casually. Juliet's features softened, she bit her lip sadly. ", it isn't your fault. It could have happened to anyone at anytime--" "But it didn't, did it..."

Juliet stopped and just looked at the grieved man sitting in front of her. She tried to think of something to say but failed.

"It happened to Shawn. My 'psychic' son..." Henry stated, letting out another weak laugh, "Shawn Spencer. Psychic detective. It happened to him. Some maniac religeous skeptic found him and took him away, probably to burn him alive like a witch doctor, and it's my fault..."

"Sir...how is it your fault?

Henry forced a drunken smile onto his lips. "For playing along. For pretending I believed he was a psychic. Shawn isn't a psychic, he's just hyper observant, and that's because of me too...Ever since he was a young boy...I raised him to be some crime solving machine instead of letting him have a normal life...instead of just letting him be a kid..." Henry said, eyes now welling with salty tears. Juliet bit her lip harder. She wanted to say something so bad, but there was nothing. She was blank, her tongue was frozen. "Why couldn't I just let him be a kid?"

And that was it. The beer fell from his hand, smashing onto the floor and allowing it's contents to seep into the fibers of the carpet. Tears. Sobs. Wails of the deepest kind of grief there was. It was so moving that Juliet felt tears forming in her eyes as well. She couldn't stay and watch him fall apart, she needed to be strong, for him, for Shawn, for herself. But she couldn't leave him either.

Quickly pacing towards the police car outside, she told McNabb to go inside and stay with until back up arrived to take him to a hospital, just in case...

The young officer nodded worriedly and rushed inside. Juliet leaned against the car, trying to regain her composure. It wasn't working. As she stood there, the man's words played through her mind repeatedly..._'...burn him alive like a witch doctor...burn him alive like a witch doctor...'_

Images came to her mind. Terrible images...and sounds...She could see Shawn...he was engulfed in flame, screaming and shreiking in horror and pain. Alone. It was too much...too much...

Her emotions shone clearly on her face, and Lassiter who had just arrived to find his junior partner in a trance looking mortified, was now also disturbed. Shaking her gently, he called her name, atempting to snap her out her train of thought.

She did. She clung to him, letting her tears flow and her feelings pour out into the air. "I'm so scared..." she admitted. Lassiter hesitated, but wrapped his arms around her in a hug. "I know..." he said quietly, now staring off at nothing. Similar images were in his head...the young Spencer being tortured to death by some psychotic murderer... He didn't even want to think about it. That was not going to happen, not as long as he was running this case. Not on his watch. Annoying psychic or not, no one, _no one_, was dying.

Buzz. Ring. Buzz. Ring.

The head detectives cell phone went off like an alarm, snapping him out of his dark thoughts.

"Lassiter." he answered, as usual.

"Detective, we have a new lead."

"Chief"

"Yes. The black van has been located. It's been spotted at the warehouse where the last victim was found."

"..."

"Also, we now know that this isn't the first of this perpetrator's crimes. He's killed 4 other people in another state."

"..."

"Detective, are you listening? I need you down there right now, I've sent back up, they should be arriving there shortly. There may be a hostage situation. Be prepared, Carlton."

The chief hung up.

Lassiter just stood there. He wasn't sure why. Maybe it had something to do with not wanting to know what he would find inside that van...Regardless, he had to go. It was his job.

Shoving his cell back into his pocket, he looked at Juliet. "We've got a lead, Ohara. Let's go."

Wasting no time, the two were in the car and driving to the hopeful close of the case.

- - - - - - - - -

**12:06 PM**

7 guns pointed their noses at the still black van. Two belonging to an anxious pair of detectives.

Seconds remained.

They might be shot at.

They might have to shoot at someone.

They might find only a body...

Time was up.

One officer yanked open the driver's door as his partner swung himself in front of it, gun aimed.

No one.

The rest of the doors were opened one by one with the same proceedure.

Juliet Ohara wanted to close her eyes, she wanted to be somewhere else, anywhere but here. She couldn't bare to have the horrifying images in her head become reality.

Carlton Lassiter stood his ground, gun still aimed, eyes fixed on each door being opened. Each door that opened made his heart tear a bit more. Each door that opened revealed no dead body, which was good. But with each door opening, it became clearer that Shawn wasn't there either, dead or alive.

"It's clear sir. No one's inside."

...

Damn.

- - - - - - - - -

**12:10 PM**

It's so...so dark...The air is moist...It's quiet...Very quiet...

He's standing up somehow, his back flat to a wooden surface. His feet are bare, the ground is cold...It feels like cement or concrete. He can feel rope. Rough, splintering rope...it's tied tightly around his middle. He tries to move, to shift himself into a more comfortable position.

Then pain. Deep pain, sending surging waves of pain through his limbs...his arms. And warmth...warm...liquid...

Drip.

Blood.

Drip.

His blood.

Drip.

Panick. He's not fully conscious, but he can feel his heart speed up. He can't see anything, or hear anything but the quiet drips of crimson hitting the unforgiving floor.

He has to get out...Where is he? How did he get here...

Foot steps. Heavy and slow...painfully slow...almost meditated...

They come closer and closer until they stop, right in front of him. A deep intake of breath...then a droned out sigh.

"So, psychic."

"..."

"Are you ready to confess your sins?"

- - - - - - - - -

**Oki day...I'm not AS pleased as I thought I would be, but any other author can relate to how I feel. You start writing, and half an hour later you stop and realize you've written a chapter and you barely remember writing it, but it is what it is.**

**It's longer than the first but still too short for my liking. However, I thought, since I am adding a chapter daily or bidaily, they don't have to be super long. If they were I would probably get fed up and have a break down. (That means the story never gets finished.) So I won't push myself.**

**I'm changing the rating of the fic to M, JUST in case. I do plan on having fun with my psychotic murderer here. I think I'll name him Bill. Bill is always a good murderer name. (Joking.)**

**I warn you, I won't go to extremes, but I do have a pretty daring mind when it comes to bringing out the best (or worst) in crazy killers.**

**Review, please. I'm hungry. I need soup. Writer's soup. Reviews. PLEASE?!**


	3. I Spy

**Okay here's the third chapter. I still don't know how many I'm planning on writing but it's nowhere near over yet, that much I can tell you. HOPEFULLY this chater will be as long and gratifying as I hope it to be...If not...I will go into masochist mode again. (God. Forbid.)**

**Also, there will be more action in this chapter. YAY. (Finally one worth reading. _)**

**Don't forget that soup fact I gave you in the first chapter...I mean it. Reviews are food. I need food to live...and write. SO REVIEW. Please and thank you. (The thank you is obviously meant for those who review, for those who don't I merely give you a thank you.)**

**Disclaimer:**** Again...I can't emphasize enough why someone would even write "DISCLAIMER" if they DID own the show. Get my point? Good. Good for you.**

**Warnings:**** Umm...More stressing Lassie, worried Juliet, drunk Henry, worried SICK Gus and well, poor poor POOR Shawn. I do hold true to my word when I say I WILL not kill him...Or put him in some year long coma. This is STILL a slash/yaoi/shounen-ai fic, although the relationship has not developed yet. (Soon, I promise.) Oh, and it hasn't been proof read yet. :D It will be, just like the others were. (And just for the record, I always proof read my chapters twice after writing them, juuust in case...Oh, and the frst two have only been read over once. So don't shoot me if you discover a typo.)**

**NOTE: The rating of the fic may very well change in the future, just in case. Also, you may have notice there were timestamps in the last chapter, yes, yes there were. This is just to give extra effect. (If you know what time something is happening it just makes it better, OKAY?!)**

**Okay, I guess that's pretty much it. Start reading and PLEASE, if you like the story so far, just take a few seconds to let me know that you do.**

- - - - - - - - -

**Day one of the investigation.**

**2:29 PM**

Henry Spencer was in a state, and it was not a good one. He had been moved to a hospital and, after several small tests, it was revealed that Henry Spencer had mixed sleep medication with alcohol, and the effects were unpleasant. All day, or at least sine he started drinking...He had felt disoriented. Extreme headaches, dizziness, all the symptoms of _misery_. Since sleeping pills had been the cause of this misery, he couldn't be given any more. So he would just have to sleep it off on his own...But so far, it wasn't working. At all.

He turned from side to side, never able to get comfortable. He finally accepted the fact that he wouldn't get to sleep...either that or the fact he was too tired to sleep, if that made sense...

He settled for watching the news channel. It was something he did all the time. The former officer liked to keep in touch with the world of justice and injustice. It filled part of the whole that retiring early had left in him.

Nothing interesting. A few small robberies...An attempted but failed break and entry to a bank...

And then...

The television flickered. The news channel was gone, but the screen was not blank. The small hospital TV now showed an empty room...dimly lit with flourescent lights that by rights should have been replaced a long time ago. Concrete walls and flooring...It was completely quiet. What the hell was this?

Henry sat up slowy, focusing more on the screen, still wondering where his news had gone.

His eyes slowly widened in horror.

A small but noticable pool of oozing red liquid crept across the floor slowly from the far left of the screen. He could tell all too easily what it was. Blood. The way it's curved walls expanded and thinned. The slow almost synister motion...

Suddenly a pale, bony hand holding a cell phone entered the frame. It skillfully opened the phone in one swift movement, and placed the small screen by the camera. It was a contact list.

1. Gus  
2. Lassie

3. Jules

4. Dad...

The phone was Shawn Spencers.

The former cop was now trembling, not with anger, but with fear. So many questions..._How? Who? Where? When? Why?_

Henry Spencer had no answers.

- - - - - - - - -

**2:57 PM**

Detective Carlton Lassiter and his partner Juliet Ohara sat at their desks, now pushed together. Both had their faces burried in papers and pictures. Neither smiled. Neither talked. Neither moved,, other than to switch to reading another paper or analyzing another picture.

Officer McNabb stood nervously in the background, only 3 meters away at most. In his hands, he held a large envelope. He wasn't smiling either...or moving. He was supposed to give this to the detectives, but he still hadn't worked up the courage to do it quite yet. He would wait for the right moment. He really hoped that moment would come soon...

...Or not. Juliet had spotted him, and was now looking at him, as if asking with her eyes what he was doing.

"What is it, officer?"

Lassiter managed to tear his eyes from a file and look over his shoulder. "McNabb, get over here. What is that?" he demanded, nodding to the envelope.

The young cop hurried over nervously, dreading the next moments of his life. "It's a lab report sir." Lassiter frowned. Well...he was already frowning, so I guess you could say he frowned _more_. "For what?" he asked impatiently. He didn't want any other cases. Not now. This one was hard enough as it was.

"Well, it's the forensics report from the van, sir."

"..."

Oh.

Both detectives reached to grab the envelope, Juliet being the victor. She opened it hurriedly and started reading faster than she even thought she could. Lassiter didn't argue or complain, he just sat there, waiting for what Juliet had to say.

With each sentence she read her composure crumbled a bit more. Amidst all the fancy forensics talk, the basic message was clear. The blood stains in the van had belonged to Shawn Spencer. He could be dead...or half dead. Either way, wherever he was he was hurt, he was bleeding.

Lassiter, seeing her expression change, snatched the report and started reading it quickly. He too, had a noticable change in his features. On top of that, there were no fingerprints whatsoever in the van beside Shawn's. This was not good news.

"...Thanks for being prompt, McNabb."

The head detectives voice was calm, and true. He hadn't meant it sarcastically. McNabb could tell that easily enough. With a weak smile, he walked away.

"Lassiter..." Juliet started, looking more pale than she had a few minutes ago, "We have to find him. We have to get this guy. We have to or he's going to kill Sha--"

"Ohara. That's not going to hapen. No one is going to be killed by this guy. According to his previous offenses, he always keeps his victims alive for 3 days, then he finds a new one. We have time. We're going to get this guy and lock him up." _'Forever...'_ he finished, in thought.

Suddenly, the chief came running out of her office with a cell phone to her ear. "Lassiter! Ohara!"

Both detectives looks up at her, slightly startled.

The chief skidded to a stop, whatever she wanted, it looked urgent.

"The hospital called." she stated.

"...They have Shawn?!" Juliet asked hopefully.

"No."

The detective's hearts sank.

"The television in Henry Spencer's room was tampered with. It's getting feed from an unknown location, we're still trying to track it, but it looks like the person is an experienced hacker. Whoever it is, they have Shawn's cell phone. We can only assume they have him too." the chief finished.

Paper went flying...Empty chairs were left spinning...Followed shortly by the sound of car tires screeching as they sped off.

- - - - - - - - -

**3:15 PM**

18 minutes later saw Henry Spencer's hospital room very crowded. There were police, nurses, and of course, Gus, Juliet, Lassiter and Chief Vick had come.

It was quiet in the room, with the exception of a few whispers between nurses and cops occassionally.

The screen still showed an empty, silent room. The technician team was trying their best to track it, but so far, it was to no avail.

Suddenly everyone stopped as the noticable sound of foot steps was emitted from the TV. And the sound of something being dragged.

Everyone froze.

They heard something drop on the floor. A scrawny, pale man entered the frame. He wore a smily-faced opera mask and dark clothing. Turning, he faced the screen and begin to speak, in a high pitched voice.

"Hello there!"

The small audience in the hospital watched intently, most of them in slight shock.

"My name is...well names aren't all that important are they? Oh, but I have a present for you!" he stated excitedly. He left the frame again and the dragging noise was heard again. "I found a psychic! A REAL, LIVE, PSYCHIC!" he yelled in a manic tone. His voice quicly changed. It was now deep and serious. "...I hate psychics."

He returned to the frame, throwing Shawn's limp body against the wall. The unconscious young Spencer slid to the floor quietly, hands and feet bound tightly with thick rope. The masked man faced the screen again, this time stepping aside to give the camera clear view of his "present".

"I found him last night! Lucky, LUCKY me!" he said, again sounding excited. "Do you want him? Because I don't know if I should give him to yoouuu." he said in an almost sing song voice. "Finders keepers, RIGHT?!"

Lassiter made a small growl deep in his throat. This guy had nerve. He was cocky, and if there was one thing Carlton Lassiter hated more than his father-in-law, it was a cocky smartass crook. "Have you traced it yet?" He asked quietly to a nearby officer.

Before the cop had a chance to answer, the masked man spoke again. "Traced? Oh no no no. You can't TRACE me! I'm untrackable! Where would be the fun in getting caught?"

A slight look of horror played out on everyone's face. _He could hear them._

Lassiter glared at the television. "Don't you worry about that. We're going to trace you, find you, and put you behind bars for the rest of your miserable life."

The masked criminal started laughing hysterically. "YOU? Catch ME? Oh no no no, I don't think so. I don't do well in jail, you see!"

Juliet frowned angrily. "If you release Shawn now, maybe you won't have to GO to prison...Give him back to us and you're free to go."

Both the chief and head detective turned to look at her, but both quickly realized what she had meant. Obviously, they were not going to let him get away with several murders on his hands, but as long as this mental case thought they would, he might return Shawn unharmed...as unlikely as it was.

"Oh puuuleaasse. Now now blondy braids, do you expect me to believe that?! Noooooo. Jack doesn't think so!"

Jack? So this freak had named himself Jack...interesting.

Juliet made another attempt to persuade him. "As a matter of fact, we can arrange a place for you to drop him off. We'll have our friend, you'll have your freedom. Sound fair?"

"Yes, yes, yes! It does. But cops lie through their teeth using their tongues to spray deceptive fumes into people's faces! PLUS, my beloved van has been confiscated, so how am I to travel, hmmmmm?"

"..."

"So quiet. You're all boring. How about I wake your friend up?"

Everyone stiffened. Waking someone up was a simple, gentle action. But with a criminal like this who hada screw or two loose, who knew what he had in mind?

The man left the screen and returned a few seconds later with a bucket of water. "Wakey wakey, PSYCHIC." Both Juliet and Carlton had noticed there was steam rising steadily from the bucket. The water was boiling...

Without hesitation, the masked psycho dumped the steaming bucket over the unconscious Spencer's head, giggling childishly as he did it. The steaming water quickly, and rudely, awakened the boy. After his nervous system kicked in and he realized what was happening, he did the first thing that came to mind. He screamed. Screamed and screamed and screamed, biting his lip in attempt to stop himself. His body trembled slightly from the overwhelming sensation of what felt like being burned alive.

Juliet covered her mouth, gasping. She had expected this to happen, it was predictable, but seeing and hearing it for real instead of in her mind was much more painful. Lassiter looked away from the screen, trying to block out the sound as well.

Slowly, Shawn's voice dissolved into soft whimpers as the cold air in the room slowly helped get rid of the burning sensation.

The kidnapper, who had been back on to the camera, now turned around, wearing a different mask. It had a deeply exaggerated frown carved into it.

He spoke once again, this time using a voice filled with pity. "Oh gosh, now look what I've done. The water was too hot! I'm sorry Shawn-y!" Knealing next to Spencer, he started to caress his face oh so gently. "I'm sooo sorry...can you ever forgive me?" Shawn turned his head away from the man weakly, trying to resist with what little energy he had. "Oh now now now, don't be like that or I'll have to punnish you again...Oops! Did I say punnish?" he stated maniacally while laughing. "You just sit right there and relax...OH! I have an idea and it's just the greatest idea EVER! Since the water was much too hot, why don't we try something COLDER? Hmmmmm? Come on, let's go."

Shawn was dragged by his hands once again out of the camera frame.

"..."

The room was silent. Most of the people in the hospital room had seen horror movies before with sick, twisted criminals. But when the same situations were unfolding in front of your own eyes in reality...it was much more...horrid.

Juliet sat in one of the guest chairs covering her face. This lunatic was truly saneless. She couldn't bare to think about what twisted things he might come up with in teh future to do to her close friend. And what was worse was that he had been _right_. They had been trying to trace him for an hour, and there was just nothing. Nothing to go by. No source, no leads. No vehicle, no leads. No identity, NO LEADS. How were they supposed to solve a case with no leads? Where could they even start?

Lassiter slowly sat in the chair beside her. Something about this guy _really_ pissed him off. He was probably bipolar, but that definitely wasn't his only mental problem. The way he had insulted the police force with such ease, his over-confident attitude, his childish, sick, twisted demeanor. How dare he? How dare he state that the police couldn't find him! How dare he openly assault a member of the SBPD! How dare he hurt Shawn and then think he had the right to touch his face that way...He didn't even deserve to speak Shawn's name...It made the head detective's blood boil. The way he just went with everything he thought of on a whim, and executed it perfectly without any hesitation. The way he had purposely left the van there while WATCHING them search hopelessly for their comrade...._Wait._ If he had seen them take the van, then...

"He was watching us."

Everyone looked at Lassiter, slightly caught off guard.

The chief walked to his side, looking dead serious. "What do you mean?"

Lassiter snickered and smiled slightly. The sort of smile someone has just before doing something they know they'll regret. "He was watching us when we took the van. He left it there for us to find and when we found it and searched it, he was watching us."

"But sir, the warehouse and surrounding area were checked thoroughly, no one was there." McNabb stated worriedly.

"I don't care. He was watching us the whole time. I don't know where he was or how he saw us, but he was watching us. And there's a camera in this room, he's watching us now too." Lassiter stated calmly, standing up,

The officers casually looked around the ceiling trying to spot the camera the detective was talking about. "...How do you know that?" an officer asked in a polite tone.

"He can hear us, so he can obviously see us...He knew what Juliet looked like."

It was true. The fact that Juliet was blonde was slightly obvious, but today she had put her hair in two long braids for the first time. It was true. He had seen them just as clearly as they had seen him.

Lassiter cleared his throat, somehow still keeping his calm. "I want a list of every single person who entered his hospital room since Henry Spencer was admitted. Nurses, doctors, visitors, janitors, EVERYONE." he started, walking out of the room quickly. The head nurse walked quickly along with him and Ohara jogged to catch up, followed closely by the chief. "I need records of any phone calls made to the room in the last 3 hours and serial information on any electrical devices in that room. Assuming he's not from Santa Barbra, I need a list of any missing mental patients from the surrounding states, including this one, with the name Jack."

He didn't miss a beat as he rounded 3 corners and 4 halls while talking. "Ohara, if anything of slightest suspicion comes up from those things, call me. McNabb, we're going to the warehouse where the van was abandoned."

And without another word, he was gone, McNabb obediently on his heels.

- - - - - - - - -

**Weeeeell, this isn't EXACTLT where I had expected to end off, but here it is anyway. Starting to get better? More actiony and interesting anyway.**

**Just to let you know, I've been very sick these last couple of days. *curls up under rock and fakes death* So, obviously I haven't been up to writing, seeing as how my mind gets a little warped when I'm sick. (Last night I had a dream about a giant blue/green blob named Chulu who killed me...seriously...fevers are dangerous.)**

**REVIIIIIIIEEEWWWWWWWW. I'd like to thank everyone so far who has reviewed, and honestly, I was surprised to get so many positive reviews so early on. It's what helped me get through this chapter despite being sick. So keep on reviewing, good peoples. It keeps me well fed and well cared for. *feels loved***

**So, that's pretty much all I have to say. I will now crash on my bed and try to recover part of my sanity.**


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